


What Would You Do For Family?

by FiliKiliThorinForever



Series: Our Final Voyage [2]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island
Genre: Final Battle, Jim loves his boys, M/M, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiliKiliThorinForever/pseuds/FiliKiliThorinForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In battle one often found themselves staring down the edge of a sword, and for Jim fighting at Trafalgar it was no different. The Spanish blew hole's in his ship, his allies aren't yet close enough to board and help and his crew are dying around him.</p><p>It's when he sees his midshipmen surrounded that he acts, doing something that purely defines him and will be forever remembered by those affected.</p><p>Because there isn't anything Jim wouldn't do for his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Would You Do For Family?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My_Trex_has_fleas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/gifts).



> A/N: Yep. I just can't leave well enough alone I'm afraid. I wish this had come to me whilst I was writing Final Farewell but never mind, it works well enough as a stand alone. So this is basically my take on how Jim's final battle might have gone and after thinking about it and all the feels I figured I'd share with all you lovely people. I got this idea yesterday, shared it with Trex who was freaking out on Tumblr and I thought "to hell with it let's write it."
> 
> Oh and once again when I published Final Farewell a paragraph somehow wasn't put on here which I only noticed as I reread it so my apologies. It's where we meet Ryan for the first time.
> 
> Now I know Blythe is a Captain in Prelude, but there's a reason he's a Lieutenant in this :)
> 
> So anyway...
> 
> To: My_Trex_Has_Fleas, Happy reading.  
> Love: Evil Incarnate <3
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

**Sadly I do not own the writings or the characters of Poldark or Return to Treasure Island. This is simply based on its characters, and on the portrayal in which My_Trex_has_fleas has fantastically written them.**

 

* * *

 

It was a battle unlike any he’d encountered in many a year. The sun was high in the sky beating down upon him harshly, sweat was pouring off him making it difficult to grasp his swords yet he kept fighting, determined to kill as many of the blasted Spaniards as possible before they took him down.

Jim parried a sword before his own sliced through the air, slitting the neck of his enemy before he turned to the next man, not even bothering to watch the previous sailor hit the deck. The battle at Trafalgar was a large one, and no matter how thorough the planning had been between himself and the captains of the three other ships the Spanish had all somehow managed to work their way in and cut them off from one another.

So here he stood, facing down countless Spanish merchants, the side of his ship almost completely ripped apart from being broadsided and quickly running out of options until Preston and Halford managed to get to him, but from what he could see their ship would still be too far to get there in time.

He dispatched three more men quickly and turned to take out another when his heart stopped at the sight before him. A group of Spaniards had surrounded his midshipmen who were all huddled together, weaponless, bleeding and looking utterly terrified.

His heart began beating furiously and he sprinted towards them, keeping his footsteps as light as possible so as not to alert the men he was about to kill. He reached them quickly, driving his two swords into two different men before removing them and taking down the remaining few in the blink of an eye.

“Are you all alright?” He asked quickly, relieved when six heads bobbed in quick succession. “Good lads. Grab your swords and follow me.”

He took down another two that got too close to his midshipmen for comfort and waited until the boys were armed before leading them down the side of the ship.

There was only one place they’d be safe, only one place that he knew would keep his boys alive no matter the outcome of the battle on board. He led them to the cutters, slaughtering anyone who thought it a good idea to try and harm his sons, for that was how he thought of them. The crew were family, and these boys who all looked up to him had, despite his best efforts, wormed their way into his heart.

And the thought of something happening to them was inconceivable.

Moments before they reached the cutters Jim laid eyes on William Blythe, the young lad he’d known for many a year who was his First Lieutenant and who he’d insisted having as a member of his crew. Blythe was holding his own but he’d clearly suffered a stray sword or two to the leg and side and seeing him hurt made his blood boil.

Where his midshipmen were like his sons William was like a younger brother, one he’d struggled to let go of and was only too happy to have beside him.

“Blythe!” he roared over the din, “come on!”

He waved the young man over and watched with a racing heart as he nodded, quickly killing off his opponent before hurrying over.

“Captain?” Blythe asked, panting as he tried to regain his breath.

Jim began moving again, herding the younger boys along behind him. “Follow me Mr Blythe,” he ordered.

The small group made their way to the cutters and Jim stood to the side, shepherding the boys into the small boat. “Come on lads in you get. Quickly now.”

Blythe had taken up a defensive position to ensure the crews youngest got on board without getting killed and jumped violently when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“You too Blythe, get in.”

“But sir -”

Jim cut off his friend's protest. “That is an order Lieutenant.”

Biting back a curse Blythe climbed aboard and yelped when Jim tugged his sword from his hand only to replace it with the one he recognised to belong to Ross Poldark. A friend from a lifetime ago who he’d come to miss and a man he knew Captain Hawkins missed even more.

“Sir -” he gasped, realising the implications of what he’d been given.

Sombre blue eyes bored into his own. “Remember your promise Will.”

“Sir – NO WAIT!”

Jim swung his swords and severed the ropes holding the cutters aloft, watching as the boys and Will disappeared from sight.

They were safe now, away from the arms of the Spanish, and he knew if he were to die today that at least his family was safe.

 

* * *

 

The small group cried out as the boat hit the ocean hard, throwing them all against the wooden planks.

Terror for his captain and friend cut through the pain and William looked up to the ship. “Captain! CAPTAIN!” He screamed, horrified and beyond furious Jim would do something like that. The midshipmen began their own cries for the blond, the lot of them sounding like kittens that had lost their mother.

There was a brief sense of relief when a familiar blond head peaked over the railings and smiled when he saw they were alright.

“Go!” Jim yelled down to them as he pointed to one of their ships that was almost upon them. “Get to the Annabelle!”

He disappeared from sight and William cursed colourfully before grabbing up an oar. “You heard him lads!” he snapped, “we need to move!”

And so they did, the small group pulling on the oars as hard as they could until they came alongside the Annabelle which in itself was aligning itself to pull alongside the Trident. After a call up top a ladder was thrown down and William held it so the boys could scramble up the side.

As they’d rowed he’d witnessed his smaller companions wiping their eyes in an effort to hide their tears as they glanced at the Trident. Normally they would have been reprimanded for using their uniforms as handkerchiefs, but he had not the heart to do so when he too feared for the life of his Captain and friend.

He was the last one up the ladder and immediately sought out the Captain of the ship, or in this case Captains, for both Halford and Preston had been assigned to the Annabelle, in what, William had long suspected, an effort to avoid a mutiny by the pair.

Or endless and tiring arguments with their superiors and blown eardrums. Whichever came first.

“Lieutenant!”

Will looked up and hurried over to where Preston was standing near the wheel, not caring for decorum after having escaped what he had.

“Captains,” he greeted both men when Halford appeared beside him. “Your timing is excellent as always.”

“Yet sadly not good enough,” Halford gritted out as he glared at the Spanish ship that was still tethered to the Trident. “Those bastards kept us occupied long enough to get to our pride and joy. How badly damaged is she?”

“A good portion of her side was blown clean off sir but she’ll still float.”

Will turned and noticed in some surprise that the midshipmen had followed him across deck. He’d reprimand them for talking out of turn later but if he were completely honest he hadn’t been below deck when the cannons had fired and so hadn’t seen the full extent of the damage. Especially as he’d been busy picking himself up off the deck when it happened.

“Is that so?” Preston asked him with a raised brow and Will shrugged.

“I was up top when we were hit sir but I trust his word.”

The two Captains nodded and Halford moved away, yelling for their sailors to prepare to board. “Very well,” Preston said as he checked his pistol and tightened his scabbard before turning to the young boys. “You lads take up position along the deck, stay in pairs and watch each other’s backs. Mr Blythe with me.”

There were nods all around as the boys ran off and William positioned himself just behind Preston and to his left, matching his strides as they descended the stairs.

“Where’s Jim?” Preston asked over his shoulder as they made their way to Halford’s side.

“He -” he had to bite down a sob and compose himself briefly, the thought of losing the blond still cutting through him painfully. “He stayed aboard sir. Saw the boys cornered and rescued them and dragged me along before getting us in the cutter and setting us free.”

Halford and Preston exchanged worried glances at what their closest friend had done, for it was something he’d only do if he believed there to be no hope. “And what of the other two lieutenants?”

“Both dead sir, they were both outnumbered but fought till their last breath.” He should know, he’d fought desperately to get to their sides but had been blocked and forced to watch as his best friends were taken from him.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Halford sent their troops aboard who worked quickly to dispatch of the tiring and injured Spanish crew before boarding the foreign ship, quickly going through and killing whoever remained and as they busied themselves with securing the new ship Will, Preston and Halford all boarded the Trident and began searching for Jim as well as any other survivors.

 

* * *

 

Preston had to fight back the fear that was threatening to overpower him with each body he turned over that wasn’t the one he was looking for when a heartbroken cry rung out across the ship.

He turned on his heel and ran back the way he’d come, Halford on his heels and they hurried to the other end of the ship where they found William sitting on the ground with a body cradled in his lap.

It seemed Jim had lost his Captain’s coat at some point or, the more likely scenario was he’d chosen to forego it altogether, preferring the loose white shirt, pants and belt that gave him more freedom to move about than the constricting fabric he usually wore.

And the white shirt was heavily stained with blood, the sword that had been driven through the blonds chest allowing his life force to steadily seep out.

“Hey,” a weak voice chuckled, and both he and Halford fell to their knees in shock when they realised Jim was still clinging to life. “Fancy s-seeing you h-here.”

“Jim,” both men breathed as they inched closer, their hearts aching painfully as they watched their friend slowly fade before them.

“D-did we w-win?”

The voice was so scratchy and soft it made Preston grab his partner’s hand, cursing any god who would listen for doing this. “Yeah Jim we won,” he told his friend gently, brushing a curl away with his free hand.

“And t-t-the boys? D-did they m-make it?” the question was cut off by a hacking cough that send blood spraying from his lips and down his cheek.

Halford wiped it away with the side of his sleeve, blinking away the tears furiously. “Yeah they made it Jim,” he replied softly. “Can you not see Blythe holding you?”

Jim turned his head ever so slightly and smiled unseeingly up at William who sobbed in reply. “Why did you not come with us?” He asked tearfully. “Why did you stay behind?”

“Y-you are m-my f-family,” Jim stuttered, his breathing becoming more laboured and painful as he practically gasped for breath. “M-my b-brother, my s-s-sons. Had to prot-tect y-you.”

Jim gasped, his mouth opening and closing several times but his body was failing. He had one last request as his vision began to dim and his hearing became difficult, one last _important_ request that needed to be said, to be passed on to a man with dark hair and darker eyes.

The only one his heart had ever belonged too.

“T-tell Ross I-I lo-love him.”

He went still in William’s arms, his final breath leaving him and it was there, surrounded by those he loved most that James Hawkins, Captain of the Trident passed into the West.

**Author's Note:**

> So in Prelude William Blythe is a Captain, so for this I figured that just maybe he had been a Lieutenant up until Jim's death where he took command of the remaining crew, which is also how he got Ross's sword off Jim to give back.


End file.
